


New Beginnings

by The_Lady_Crane



Series: The Baris Chronicles (or, Soren Got Preggers) [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Fluff, Gay Male Character, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just wanted to write one scene and it became this, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Sorry, Introspection, M/M, Male Slash, Mpreg, Post-Canon, Yaoi, series of drabbles laced together as one story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: After Ike and Soren leave Tellius, they find themselves embarking on yet another unexpected journey.(Be warned: Here there be MPREG)





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as one or two scenes and stayed up all night writing, and I haven't really edited it, and I'm about to be late for a Halloween party, and I really shouldn't post this right now but I always feel rushed to post as soon as I'm done writing, and I gotta go now BYE!

_You’re getting so big already. It’s astonishing, really, the rate at which you grow. I suppose all children do this. All children must become adults. But it seems like no time at all before you’re walking, and then talking. And soon you’re learning how to read, how to hold a sword, how to walk in that same confident stride as your father. You’re growing taller, leaner, losing your baby fat almost overnight. I can see him in you so clearly now. I can see the boy he was, and the man he is. And every day, you prove that you will carry his legacy, and I am satisfied. _

_When you look at me like this, I can’t help but remember the boy who looked up to his father so. He was very different, when he was your age. His father may as well have walked on water, in his eyes. But you… You defy us. You push, and pull, and test our boundaries. You are exhausting sometimes, because you have enough of me in you to make you this way. It is your father I see in your stance, your walk, your face; but looking into your eyes is like looking into a mirror. _

_Maybe it makes me feel a bit proud of myself._

>>><<< 

They were well beyond any form of civilization when Soren began to suspect something.

Suddenly feeling the need to vomit, the sage tottered towards the side of the road, emptying his stomach of the sparse lunch he had eaten just half an hour earlier. He heard Ike’s heavy footsteps behind him, and a gentle hand pushed his hair back from his face. Focusing on riding out this episode, Soren remained bent over until he was sure there was nothing else to expel. Then he straightened, tucking his bangs behind his ear as he searched his robes for the little bottle of mouthwash.

“We should go back.” Ike’s low voice was tinged with concern and determination. Soren grimaced as he swished a mouthful of cardamom water. Spitting into the bushes, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and took a few steadying breaths.

“We’ll rest a few days at the inn,” Ike pressed, his hand firm on Soren’s shoulder. “There’s no hurry. We can be back on the road whenever you’re well again.”

“The nearest town is twenty miles away,” Soren said in a hoarse voice. “It would waste too much time.”

“There’s nowhere we need to be.”

“Nowhere except forward.” Soren turned, and was immediately caught up in Ike’s arms. His face heated at the contact. Affection like this had been such a rare thing in Tellius. Out here, their inhibitions meant nothing.

“You’re sick.” The deep rumble of Ike’s voice lulled Soren somewhat. He relaxed against the taller man’s chest. “I don’t want to take any chances of this becoming worse. If you take a turn, and we’re nowhere near a healer…”

“Ike, I’m fine.” He leaned back so he could look up at Ike’s handsome face – too handsome, he thought, because now it was all his and that made him shiver in pleasure every time he looked. But those deep blue eyes were concerned. Soren tilted his lips upward in a small smile, and brought his hand up to rest against Ike’s chest, stroking hard muscle beneath rough leather. “There isn’t anything gravely wrong with me.”

“You’ve been throwing up for two days,” Ike persisted.

“It’s just something I ate.”

“Then why am I not affected?”

“Ike, your stomach could digest iron.” Soren pushed, gently, and freed himself from Ike’s loose hold. He resumed walking, confident that Ike would follow. “I feel fine otherwise, so there’s no need to worry.”

In truth, Soren was beginning to grow a little concerned. But he couldn’t let Ike know that. Not yet. There was no need to cause the former general any unjust worry. For the first time in a long time, they were free. The decision to leave Tellius hadn’t come easily for Ike, but to Soren, it was just the kind of fresh start that he’d always dreamed of. Where Ike sought peace and anonymity, Soren sought solitude from all except Ike.

No, it simply would not do to raise the alarm. The sage knew that he was in no danger. That much he could tell for himself.

“You don’t think you’ve been poisoned, right?” Ike said after a while. He walked with ease, just a pace apart from Soren, but his eyes were on his companion rather than the dirt road.

“Not likely,” Soren replied. “It’s probably a brief misalignment of my system. Nothing more.”

“You feel OK now?”

“Yes.” A partial truth. As the sun languished directly overhead, the brightness of it was beginning to cause Soren’s vision to occasionally shift. It wasn’t dizziness, per se, but it was noticeable enough to be annoying.

“We should stop for a bit,” Ike said, finally looking away from Soren so he could scout their surroundings. It had been many weeks since they had begun their journey, and many days since they had arrived on the continent of Baris. Currently, they were in a wide plain scattered here and there with sparse patches of woods. Mountains loomed to the north, parallel to the road they were currently following westward. There seemed to be no place of rest on the path, but beyond the gradual dip in terrain was a sparkling pond and a few trees. It was perfect.

Soren didn’t object as Ike diverted from the road. He followed, keeping his head lowered to stop the sunlight from affecting his vision. Ike’s sturdy tread cleared a path for Soren, and he picked his way along tall grass before it could spring back from Ike’s passage. Now more than ever, he was glad he had worn boots instead of sandals. The grass was hopping with insects.

They came to the pond, and found it to be clear and clean. Soren could feel nothing magical about it, so he bent to drink, signaling to Ike that it was safe. They slaked their thirst, and then Soren went to sit beneath the outspread branches of a tall oak. It was a bit of a surprise to him that he was panting a little. He hadn’t realized that the trek had exerted him so.

Ike was watching him with a penetrating gaze. Soren could feel it without even looking. “Something’s wrong,” he said, and Soren sighed, leaning back against the rough bark.

“Ike, forget about it. I’ll be alright in a few days.”

The vanguard came to sit beside Soren, and once again the sage was pulled into an embrace. Out here, without anyone to see or judge them, it was safe to do such things. Soren nuzzled into Ike’s warmth, welcoming it despite the heat rising from the earth. “Soren, I…”

“Really, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to take any chances.” Ike’s voice was firm. “Even if it’s just something minor… Even if you’re really alright, I want to be absolutely sure before we go further.”

It wasn’t like Ike to worry so much. Then again, they were alone out here. Soren was the only person Ike had now. The sage liked to flatter himself that Ike would be just as devastated to lose him had they never left the other mercenaries, but out here, the fear was front and center. Soren reached up to run his fingers over Ike’s jawline, feeling the stubble beginning to grow there. “Fine,” he said. “If it will ease your mind, we’ll turn back.”

A brief brush of lips against Soren’s fingertips sent a pleasant shiver up the sage’s spine. “Thank you,” Ike said softly. “Even if it wastes time, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“And I’d rather chew on Shinon’s socks than spend the gold. Seeing as he’s far behind us, it seems we’ll have to spend the gold.” That got a chuckle out of Ike, and Soren smiled.

“Your mouth…”

“Irresistible?” Soren tilted his head inquiringly, and Ike snorted.

“You’ve never been so…” he searched a moment for the right word, “playful.”

“I’m happy.” The words came out of their own accord, but Soren realized that they were true. He was happy. Ike smiled, and leaned down to kiss him, eyes open and gazing into Soren’s as he pulled back again.

“Me, too.”

>>><<< 

_Someday, you will keep his legacy alive. You will walk tall, and proud, and strong. You will be every bit the warrior he is, every bit the warrior his father was. Perhaps even greater. This cursed blood of mine runs through your veins. For good or ill, it is a part of you. It makes you stronger. The spirits whisper to you, as they always have to me. Whether you can hear them or not is hardly of any consequence. Even if you cannot channel them, they will aid you in other ways. _

_When I first held you in my arms, I knew that you would do great things in this world. My ethereal companions were excited, their fervor growing along with my belly. And as you cried your first, they cried out in kind. You are powerful. You will become even more powerful as you grow. _

_The blood of heroes and of dragons courses through you. It is a power built up with each generation. Your grandfather, blessed by pure chance with strength and skill beyond most mortal men; your father, the same power enhanced by the goddess of chaos herself; and you, brought into the world by the might and mystery of Goldoan dragons. _

_This blood will serve you far better than it ever served me. But there is one thing that it has given me, one thing that has made all the suffering worth it:_

_You._

>>><<< 

They arrived in town just in time. As Ike’s boots hit the cobbled streets, he picked up his speed and all but ran towards the temple. Curled up in his arms, Soren was too dizzy and nauseous to protest. He wanted to at least walk on his own, but his body wasn’t having any of it. It was a good thing, he thought, that there were so few people out and about at this early hour.

They had begun the walk back, and had only stopped at night to make camp. But in the middle of the night, Soren had woken from a dead sleep to a horrible pain in his gut. He had rolled over, away from Ike, trembling and retching dryly. Alerted, Ike bolted upright, his hand on Ragnell’s hilt, scanning for any sign of an attack before reaching for Soren.

Even after expelling all that his body had to give, Soren’s pain hadn’t let up. Ike had lifted him from their grassy bed right then and there. Leaving behind their sleeping bag and a few of their provisions, he had barely had the presence of mind to grab their packs before rushing for the road, Soren limp and trembling in his arms. It didn’t matter to him that he was carrying the sage, the sage’s pack, and his own supplies. He trudged on steadily, never stopping, until the faint light of dawn revealed the town spread before them on the next hilltop.

The temple was old, but well maintained. The rough wooden doors swung open when Ike kicked them in. “Hello!” he called, his frantic voice echoing all around them. “Hello! I need help!”

A woman materialized from the darkness beyond the dim gray light in the doorway. She looked concerned, her long blue hair flying everywhere as if she’d just gotten up. “He’s sick,” Ike said, panting heavily. “Please, help him. I have gold. Just…”

Ike knew that she couldn’t understand his words. It had been that way ever since coming to Baris. Few people here spoke Tellian, and their language was so different that it was impossible to communicate verbally without a translator. But she could see that Soren was in trouble. He was pale, his eyes glassy as he stared at a point on Ike’s chin. The woman smiled reassuringly at Ike, and put her hand on his arm, beckoning him to follow her outside.

She was a dark shadow in the dim morning light, and Ike followed closely behind her as she led him across the town plaza. A few people were beginning to emerge from the buildings. Nearby, a baker was firing up her ovens. A man leaned out of a window and beat dust off of the sign hanging above the door. They gave the travelers curious looks as they passed, but didn’t interfere.

Their destination was close, directly across from the temple. The woman smiled again as she led Ike inside a wide set of double doors. The scent of herbs immediately caught Ike’s attention. That smell was one he associated with healing; his shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Hang on, Soren,” he murmured, glancing down to see that Soren was looking around blearily.

The entryway was a fairly small and cramped wooden room, headed by a counter against the far wall. The woman rang a little bell, and presently another woman appeared. Ike stepped up to her, noting with some shock that she was just as tall as he was. “Can you help him?” he asked.

“What’s wrong?”

Ike blinked, surprised to hear the familiar words coming from her mouth. “Uh, his stomach. He’s been throwing up, and feeling dizzy. And tonight, there was…” He looked down as Soren cleared his throat.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself,” the sage said, and Ike was almost relieved that he was feeling well enough to be annoyed. Carefully, Ike lowered Soren to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but he stood on his own, holding Ike’s arm for support.

“Come in,” the woman said. “I’ve no other patients at the moment. I can take a look at you.” She spoke in the foreign tongue to the cleric, who smiled and waved cheerfully at Ike and Soren as she took her leave. Ike and Soren followed the taller woman through a doorway and into a narrow hall.

“Forgive the cramped space.” The woman’s voice was low and even, and the effect was almost hypnotic. She opened one of three doors, and motioned them inside. “Sit on the table, please,” she said to Soren, and he complied, using a little wooden stool to sit on the padded table.

Everything in the room was very obviously clean, and so bright that Ike wondered if they had stepped into another world entirely. The floor was a light wood, but the walls and furniture were all painted stark white. The padding on the table was white, too, and smooth like fine leather. The counters were topped with a white stone that gleamed in the light of an overhead lantern. Since crossing the sea, Ike and Soren had seen the Barisian lighting techniques using crystals and magic, but it was still a little astonishing to see such bright light indoors.

“Now, then.” The woman sat on a tall stool beside the table, and motioned for Ike to take a seat near the door. Soren’s feet dangled far above the floor. He looked like a child sitting on a too-big sofa. Beside him, the woman held up a stiff wooden slate that held a sheaf of paper. She was writing as she spoke. “Nausea, vomiting, dizziness… What else?”

“Abdominal pain,” Soren said. “Mostly in my pelvic area.”

“I see…” The stick of charcoal skidded across the paper. “How long has this been going on?”

“I’ve been nauseous for three days. The pain began during the night.”

“Light-headedness? Shortness of breath? Chest pains?”

“No.”

She laid the tablet aside. “Alright, then, and your name?”

“Soren.”

“Alright, Soren, let’s take a look at you.”

Ike sat back, feeling anxiety and relief in equal measure. He had never seen a healer like this before. Her white coat, while almost recognizable, was different from the ones Rhys wore. There was no indication that she or the building held any sort of religious significance. It seemed as if this place was purposed specifically for healing, but it was very different from the modest hovels of the wise women and shamans Ike had heard about.

She was examining Soren carefully, looking at his eyes, his mouth, his ears. She lifted his arm and felt under his ribcage. Then she asked him to lie down so she could raise his shirt.

Soren wasn’t comfortable with this idea, but at his worried glance, Ike stood and moved around to Soren’s side, his hand finding the sage’s shoulder and squeezing. Without a word between them, Soren knew that Ike would protect him, and he laid back against the padded surface of the table, staring up at the white ceiling as cool, slim hands lifted the hem of his tunic.

“I’m surprised you speak Tellian,” Soren said, partly as a way to distract himself from the prodding touch at his abdomen.

“I’ve traveled extensively,” the woman said. “I’m a doctor, by the way. My name is Chell.”

“A doctor?”

“A healer, you might say.”

“We’ve only met one other who has been to Tellius,” Ike said. “The man who brought us here, actually. Kava, I think.” If the name rang any bells for Chell, she gave no indication. She was focused on Soren, frowning as she pressed her fingers against his skinny pelvis.

“Are you feeling any pain?” she asked.

“No. Discomfort.” Soren’s eyes sought Ike’s, and the vanguard nodded to him, reassuring him despite his own fears. Ike couldn’t read the expression on the doctor’s face, and he didn’t know whether the news would be good or bad.

“Here?”

Soren winced. “Yes.”

Chell sighed, and returned Soren’s shirt to its original position. He sat up as she scooted back a little. “Well, I have good news, or bad news, depending on how you take it.”

Ike’s grip tightened on Soren’s shoulder. “What is it?” he asked.

Brushing aside her long black bangs, the doctor surveyed them both for a moment. “What was your name, again?” she asked Ike, and he told her. “Ike, could I ask you to step outside for a moment? This is something I would like to tell him privately.”

“Anything you say to me, you can say to Ike,” Soren said with a slight hardening of his expression.

Chell nodded. “Very well. You’re pregnant, Soren.”

And suddenly, they weren’t so sure that she spoke their language so well, after all.

>>><<< 

_Sometimes, your laughter startles me. _

_It’s a sound I wasn’t accustomed to hearing, before you came along. Your father laughs rarely, always a low chuckle and almost never a real laugh. As for me, I can’t remember the last time I expressed mirth so freely and loudly. _

_But you give us this gift often, and openly. You began as just an infant, and now you laugh and scream with joy almost daily. It is wonderful, and it is jarring. You’re growing up in such a different time, in such a different place, than I did. I never had occasion to laugh. I can’t remember ever laughing until I met your father. And he may have laughed openly, once, but that was stripped from him the moment his father fell to the sword. From that day onward, his laughter was stifled and subdued._

_You are our hope and our redemption. If we can’t find it in ourselves to laugh, you do so for us. We have given everything to ensure that your future is a bright one. So much we had sacrificed, so much we had suffered. You are our reward for all of that pain. You are our miracle. When you laugh, it’s like a confirmation that you truly were sent to us to ease our suffering. _

_Because when you laugh, I can see the laughter return to his eyes, too; and it makes me happy._

>>><<< 

Pregnant.

Soren contemplated the word, almost seeing it written across the dusty boards of the ceiling above him. Pregnant, she’d said. And she’d meant it, too. He was pregnant, she had seen it herself, and the spirits were telling him that it was true.

Of course, the spirits’ whispers had brought the thought to his mind before. He had dismissed them. Though he had heard their voices all his life, he still doubted their truth when it was difficult to bear.

Chell could hear the spirits, as well; and unlike Soren, she could see life. She had seen the tiny little spark, barely noticeable, living within him. Absently, his hand came to rest on his abdomen. Nothing, he thought. There was nothing there yet. No swelling, no tingle of magical energy, no pain or warmth to indicate that there was anything beneath his hand but his own body.

He heard Ike coming up the stairs. His footfalls were always heavy, always sure, but they stopped and hesitated just outside the door. Then the hinges creaked, and Ike came in, walking quietly but somehow making even more noise as he drew out the whine of the door and the firm thunk of wood against wood.

“Hey,” Ike said, but Soren gave no indication that he’d heard. He was locked within himself, unable to find the will to move or speak. A weight settled on the bed, and Ike came into view, leaning over him carefully. “You OK?”

Soren turned his head, looking at the dingy plaster on the wall. “I’m fine, Ike,” he said. “Just fine.” It was a failed attempt at sarcasm. His voice came out weak and shaky.

Thick, calloused fingers rested over Soren’s hand – over the one on his belly. “We’ll figure this out.”

“How? I didn’t even know I could… I could get…” He couldn’t even say it. The word stuck in his throat like a lump of charcoal.

“Pregnant?”

Soren glared at him. “Yes. _That_. How was I supposed to know?”

Ike shrugged, and Soren wanted to hug him and strangle him at the same time. He was taking this very calmly, all things considered. “Chell said it’s not unheard-of.”

“Perhaps here, but in Tellius…”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in Tellius anymore,” Ike said with a half-smile.

“How am I supposed to process something like this?!” Suddenly agitated, Soren sat up and began scrunching his robes in his fingers. “This is not according to plan! This can’t happen, Ike!” He pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in his folded arms. “What are we going to do?!”

“Calm down. We’ll think of something.” Ike scooted over so he was sitting beside the sage. “Come here.” Soren offered no resistance as Ike rested him against his chest. Thick fingers ran through his hair, soothing him despite the all-consuming panic that was beginning to rise in his chest.

“I don’t know any way to safely get rid of it.”

Ike’s hand stilled. He tensed. “You… want to…”

A heavy silence descended over them. Soren swallowed thickly. “I- I thought that was… what you would want.”

The hand on his head pressed him close, the grip tight enough to be almost uncomfortable. “You… Soren, don’t make a decision like that based on what you think I want. What do YOU want?”

A tremor ran through Soren as he tucked closer into Ike’s chest. “I don’t… I don’t even know.”

“Then, just take your time. Just think about it.”

Soren nodded. There was still some time left before it would be too late. “We have to think about this logically. How could we care for… for it?”

Ike resumed stroking Soren’s hair. “We could make it work,” he said. “I grew up on the road, and you’ve been with the company for a long time. We both know how to survive. I know we could keep a child safe, too.”

“Is this something you want, though?”

“I told you, don’t think about…”

“No,” Soren cut him off, leaning up so he could look the bigger man in the eye. “I want to know what you want. Ike…” His eyes were wide, desperate. “If I don’t have your support, I can’t…”

A little smile quirked the corner of Ike’s mouth. “I would support you no matter what you decided. This is your choice. I can’t take that away from you. But…” he sighed, settling Soren against him once more. “If you want to know my own feelings about it, I’m a little happy.”

“What?” Soren’s head snapped back up.

“I can’t explain it. It’s like… This is what fate has brought us. And I see it as a gift. If you’re not ready, then that’s fine. But I think we could do it.”

The sage’s fingers clutched at Ike’s shirt. It took him a moment to find his voice. “We can do it. I know that we can. Logistically, an extra person to feed wouldn’t be much of a problem. And I know we could handle keeping a… a child safe.” He nuzzled into Ike’s warmth, breathing deeply of his scent. It was soothing, masculine and strong and so reassuring that he felt his eyes closing almost against his will.

“But?”

“Ike, you and I are… How do we know we could handle it? Truly?” He and Ike were both broken people. Soren, cursed from birth, had never even considered trying to raise a child of his own. And Ike had been so changed by war, by revenge, by the weight of his grave responsibilities. He was no longer the carefree boy with dreams of becoming his father. He didn’t have the luxury of holding onto his innocence.

Ike’s arms tightened around him. He seemed to know what Soren was thinking. “I don’t know. But I’m up for the challenge.”

And a challenge it would be. Already, Soren was having to adapt. The abdominal pain he was experiencing came from the expansion of his insides to accommodate his new childbearing role. As for why? “Who can say?” Chell had shrugged. “It happens sometimes. Some people have traits of both sexes. You mentioned that you never knew your parents – perhaps it’s something that runs in your family.” It was a likely explanation. By now, Soren had figured out his laguz heritage. So little was known about the dragons of Goldoa that it was entirely possible for this to be normal.

He was malnourished, she’d said also. “Your body needs energy right now. Your habits aren’t giving you enough nutrients, so you’ll have to adopt a better diet. Dried meat and ship’s biscuit aren’t going to cut it.” Ike had gone out immediately to rent them a room at the inn. Soren didn’t want to waste the money, but Ike had insisted.

“I’ve already gotten a job,” he’d said as he handed Soren the room key. “Some bandits keep attacking the farms nearby, and the farmers have gotten a good amount of coin together to hire a sword.” And so, for a time, they stayed in town and spent their gold and tried to work out a sustainable plan for the future.

>>><<< 

_You try not to show when you’re feeling ill. But I can always tell. _

_I’m sitting on your cot, stroking your forehead to gauge the severity of your fever. There’s tea nearby, and a cool cloth; but you’re having none of it. You want to go outside and play. You glare at me, blearily, as if you can hardly see me, and demand to be set free. _

_I threaten to shackle you to the bed. _

_Of course, you always choose the difficult path. It’s never the easy way with you. I have to hold you down, until I begin to mutter incantations and you freeze, submitting only to the threat of magical retribution. I have no tome, and my spells would do nothing; but you don’t know that yet. I fear for the day when you learn my secret._

_It’s all an act that you’re putting on. You’re trying to be brave, because you don’t want to succumb to your fever. But soon enough, you’re whimpering softly and reaching out for me. And my heart breaks when I look into your eyes. I sit beside you, and pull you into my lap, cradling you like the baby you were a few short years ago. I know that you’re going to be alright, but I can’t fight the worry. It isn’t in my nature, typically, to offer comfort. But you have your father’s ways. You draw me in, and I can’t help but want to soothe your aches and fears. _

>>><<< 

Gradually, things fell into place. Soren had always wondered at the good fortune, or fate, or whatever it had been that guided his steps to Ike when the odds had been impossible that he’d actually find him. The same sort of intervention that had brought Ike to him that day under the oak tree, that had returned Soren to Ike years later, was now guiding their steps once more.

The job rooting out bandits had led to others, as usually happened when word of Ike’s strength got out. Soren accompanied him to as many raids as he could, though Ike became more and more cautious of bringing him into battle. This annoyed Soren, and also made him a little afraid. It wasn’t that he felt Ike thought him weak; wasn’t that he thought Ike couldn’t do it alone; but if he wasn’t by Ike’s side, then he was useless, and that would not do at all. More often than not, he was left in their little room at the inn, furiously pacing the floor after waking to discover that Ike had left without a word.

One morning, Soren woke as Ike’s weight left the bed. He was instantly alert. “Where are you going?”

Ike froze, his silhouette dark and insubstantial in the gray pre-dawn. Then he resumed dressing. Soren could barely make out the tense line of his shoulders. “There are some bandits attacking a village a few miles out. Gonna clear them and collect the bounty.”

Soren sat up, and reached for one of the tomes by the bed. He thought if he didn’t declare his intent, then Ike would have no chance to deny him outright. But a firm hand descended on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Ike shake his head. “Stay here.”

Red eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“There’s no need for you to go. I can handle it.” Ike turned from him again, sitting on the bed and pulling his boots on.

Fury. Indignation. Soren slid out of bed, gathering more tomes and deciding which ones he would need. He was going this time, and he had no intention of heeding Ike’s words. The vanguard would have to tie him down to keep him here.

But when Ike spoke again, it wasn’t an admonition. “Stay inside.” Soren’s heart constricted. Those two words conveyed so much. It was a command, and a plea, and a promise. _“Let me protect you,” _Soren heard in unspoken syllables. _“Don’t leave me. You’re all I have now.” _

He sat next to Ike, allowing the books to slide from his hands and onto the mattress. Ike glanced at him when he leaned against the taller man, his head resting on a hard bicep. _“I’ll stay. You’re all I have, too. You always have been.” _

When Ike returned much later that day, he looked like the cat that caught the canary. Soren wasn’t too pleased at the little smile on Ike’s face; he was still oscillating between emotions concerning Ike’s sudden overprotectiveness of him. “Well?” Soren fixed him with a piercing glare, but Ike just took his hand and led him out the door.

It wasn’t a proper house as most would picture it – in fact, the majority of the structure was nothing more than an old stone watchtower supported by ancient wooden beams. There was a little hut next to the tower, apparently having been built to house soldiers at the watch. Located outside of town, in a dense wood, it was secluded and well hidden. Soren couldn’t tell when the soldiers had moved out and when the bandits had moved in, but the surrounding fieldstone wall was quite overgrown with creeping vines. The little garden patch was a dense blanket of weeds.

“The magistrate says another tower was built a little way away, so nobody has any use for it,” Ike said, looking pleased with himself. “What do you think?”

Soren smiled. “It’s perfect.”

>>><<< 

_Someday, he will leave us. _

_That is the nature of beorc – to die. As Branded, we are granted the curse of several lifetimes. Right now, you think it’s splendid. You say you want to live forever. You have no idea what it means to live so long, and nothing I say can get through that thick skull of yours. _

_It’s fine, for now. You don’t need to think ahead. One day, it will be just the two of us. There will be few left in Tellius who remember the man, rather than the legend. But we’ll know. We will carry him with us into the future, you and I. And long after I am gone, you will remember. _

>>><<< 

The season turns all too quickly, and Soren began to feel a change in his body. The abdominal pains grew worse, until he almost couldn’t take it. Then he woke up feeling fine one cold, crisp morning, and that was that.

In some ways, Ike was more relieved than Soren. He was certainly more excited, too, when he walked in on Soren getting dressed one morning and noticed the swelling in his lower abdomen. The vanguard stepped into their little house, paused at the doorway, and then came to kneel in front of the sage in two quick strides. “What are you doing?” The only reason Soren didn’t pull away was because it was Ike. Rough hands came up to caress him so gently that he could barely feel their warmth. Ike was staring transfixed at Soren’s belly. “Ike?”

“It really is there.” Something akin to awe tinged Ike’s voice.

“Of course, it is,” Soren said, holding his hands to his sides, almost afraid to move lest he break the strange spell that had come over his lover. Ike turned his head and pressed his ear to Soren’s abdomen. “You won’t hear anything yet,” the sage said. “It’s too small.”

“I hear something breathing.”

“That’s me, you idiot.” The smile that tugged at his lips was impossible to fight. “It won’t breathe until it’s born.”

Ike closed his eyes. Regardless of what Soren said, he thought he could feel something there. It was a presence, like a spirit, impossible to describe but _there_ all the same. His hand rested above the spot where their tiny child was growing. A contented sigh blew at the hem of Soren’s pants as Soren’s fingers brushed through Ike’s hair.

This was peace, then. Waking every morning with Soren in his arms, working in the garden alongside each other, occasionally heading out to hunt or collect a bounty. Feeling the cool, smooth surface of Soren’s skin and the slow, even breaths he took. And now, the knowledge that they really had created life together, and seeing the proof with his own eyes.

He only rose when Soren shivered, and he allowed the strategist to dress before pulling him into a tight hug. Ike’s embrace always had a hypnotic effect on Soren, and he relaxed instantly against his lover’s broad chest, resting his ear above Ike’s heart. Heat rose in his face when Ike’s rough hand slid down his abdomen again, cupping the little bulge there and warming it with his palm. “I told you, there’s nothing to feel yet,” Soren said, irritability masking the softer emotions fluttering in his chest.

“There is,” Ike insisted, his eyes closed as he focused on that small swelling. “It’s right here. I can actually feel you getting bigger.”

Soren snorted. “Is this some kind of fetish?”

“What’s a fetish?”

“Never mind.” The sage buried his face in Ike’s chest, laughing softly.

>>><<< 

_He cried on the day you were born. _

_I haven’t seen him cry since his father died. He has borne countless hardships since then, all without a single tear shed. Horrific injury is insufficient to prompt him to weep. But the moment he held you for the first time, tears coursed down his face as easily as water flows from a spilled cup. _

_“He’s small,” he’d said, his voice thick with emotions that I forgot he could express. And as you screamed and flailed in your weak way, venting your misery at having been wrestled from your warm cocoon, he wept. _

_Your wrinkled little face, your piercing wails, your warm slight weight against my chest… I remember it all. And I remember Ike, unable to look away from us, looking like he had found a new purpose in life. _

_We named you Priam. A fitting name, we both thought, and the spirits whispered their agreement. You are our new adventure. And for once, this is a journey that we are happy to take. _


End file.
